


Shiny Black Taxi Cab

by CaveFelem



Category: Rush (2013)
Genre: Back Seat, Drunken Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Silly, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 07:38:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaveFelem/pseuds/CaveFelem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All in all, it is best for all concerned that Niki lets James kiss him at the back of the cab.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiny Black Taxi Cab

**Author's Note:**

  * For [minutemarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minutemarch/gifts).



> Disclaimer: This story is about the characters as portrayed in the movie Rush. It's not an attempt to claim that any of this happened in real life.
> 
> This story was born from a discussion featuring drunk James and tipsy Niki on the back seat of a cab. It probably shouldn't even have been written, but it refused to _not_ be. All the good ideas are likely minutemarch's and all the bad ones mine.
> 
> Oh, and this really has no plot whatsoever.

Stepping out of the noisy and packed bar and into the after-rain London chill, Niki ponders, semi-soberly, where the cut-off point between "good evening" and "good morning" is. James has hailed a cab, and judging by his greeting to the driver, for him 2:30 appears to be on the evening side. 

"Where to, sir?"

James gestures with the hand that isn't holding a half-consumed beer, the latest of far too many to count.

"The Berkeley Hotel. We're – whoops." He fails to notice the edge of the sidewalk, teeters unsteadily for a moment, and Niki considers letting him fall flat on his face. He might learn a lesson. Then again, he might not.

At least he has the wits to say thanks when Niki grabs his arm, possibly unnecessarily hard, and steadies him. Balance regained, James turns his attention back to the cab driver, who does not look the slightest bit amused. 

"As I was saying, The Berkeley. Did I say it already? Well, now I've said it again." He makes a move towards the door of the cab, but the driver is blocking his way and seems intent on continuing to do so.

"Your friend is very drunk", he observes drily to Niki. "Can he behave for fourteen and a half minutes and not be sick on the seat?"

Before Niki can answer, James butts in with a loud laugh.

"Don't you know who I am? The best drinking buddy in town and the one with the most experience, that's who. I can hold my drink better than –"

"Look, sir, I don't know, I don't care, I only care that you don't make a mess in my cab. Please dispense with the beer before getting in."

James gives the driver a resigned shrug and grin, tilts his head back and pours the rest of his beer down his throat, swallowing it in a few large gulps. Niki watches from the corner of his eye.

"Ahh", James sighs and blithely hands the empty plastic pint to Niki, who scowls at him but takes the few necessary steps to place it in a nearby bin. It is quicker than arguing about it with an intoxicated James. " _Now_ can we get in?"

*

There is a plexiglass divider and a flimsy bit of curtain between the back of the cab and the driver, offering a measure of safety in case James and Niki turned out to be knife-wielding robbers and a comforting illusion of privacy to those passengers who have nothing of the sort in mind. Even so, and even despite the driver having switched on the radio and having become seemingly oblivious to their presence, Niki lowers his voice to ask:

"Fourteen and a half minutes?"

"They know these things, London drivers do." James leans closer and whispers conspiratorially, "It's called 'The Knowledge'. They know every street, every corner, exactly how long it takes to get from any point to another. They have brains a bit like yours." He reaches out to cradle the back of Niki's head in his hand. Niki shifts away, self-conscious and mildly irritated.

"You are drunk."

"So are you." James's hand moves down to Niki's shoulder.

"Less than you. And you are a stupid drunk."

"You like me anyway." The hand leaves Niki's shoulder and lands firmly on his thigh.

" _James_ ", Niki hisses between his teeth and glances pointedly in the direction of the driver's back.

"But you heard him. He has no idea who we are. He doesn't care." 

James has that stupid grin on his face again, the one that makes his cheeks dimple and gives his eyes a sparkle that for some reason has women swooning in their thousands. Niki, of course, is entirely immune. So immune, he does not even need to move James's hand off, because it has no effect on him whatsoever. Not even when it moves higher, fingers splayed, now curling, practically massaging his thigh. No effect whatsoever, no effect, none.

"You're awfully tense, Niki. Relax."

"I'm not tense", Niki replies automatically, clenching his hands into tight fists and unclenching them hastily when he hears, or rather feels, James's chuckle very close to his ear.

"I bet I can get you to loosen up." James's breath, moving away from Niki's ear to ghost down his neck, is warm and smells of alcohol. Niki gathers his resolve to push James firmly away and tell him to stay on his own side of the seat, but somehow the thought fails to manifest as action. Instead – it must be those drinks he had, maybe he shouldn't have – he finds himself turning his head to the side, exposing more skin for James to breathe on and then kiss.

Seeing them reflected on the inside of the tinted window makes it feel like watching a film. James's shaggy blond mop of hair, his head moving entirely unsubtly as he tries to get past the collar of Niki's shirt to lick the junction of neck and shoulder. Niki's own face, mouth gone too soft and slack, his expression one he doesn't want anyone else to see; it is too unguarded. He closes his eyes.

"Wish we had more time." The hand on Niki's thigh has moved still higher. "I'd do you right here. Would you like that?" Fingertips skimming over the fly of his slacks now. "If I sucked you off?"

"James, not here", he begins even as he feels himself harden against James's hand. He swallows the rest of his reproachful words, not trusting his voice.

"I know, I know. Really not enough time to do it properly. Nice to think about, though. Or I could ask the cabbie to take a longer route, drive in circles a bit..."

"You. Will. Not." 

"Can I at least kiss you?"

"If it makes you shut up." 

It is also far less risky than the other idea to come from James's stupid, drunken, sex-obsessed head. Kissing they could possibly explain away somehow. At any rate, that is how Niki reasons with the more sober part of his mind.

Besides, it is crucially important that James stops sharing those ideas in that well-honed seduction tone of his. It is all too easy to imagine them, letting resistance fray at the edges, and from there, it would only be a small step to complete irresponsible abandon.

All in all, it is best for all concerned that Niki lets James kiss him at the back of the cab, half-draped over him, wet, sloppy, beer-flavoured lips and tongue doing their magic. 

(Perhaps it should be a given, since he gets more practice than most; but even drunk, and maybe especially when he is drunk, James is a magnificent kisser.

Niki would rather eat rusty nails than tell him so.)

"What are you doing?" Niki whispers urgently when James suddenly breaks free and slides halfway off the seat to bring his face to the level of Niki's chest.

James looks up with a wicked smirk that makes Niki want to smack him and then kiss him again. Then he tilts his head and takes a bit of Niki's shirt between his teeth, his damn teeth, right where the topmost button is, and tugs.

"'s difficult", he mutters when the button does not come elegantly undone, and tugs harder. Too hard. The button does come undone then, but not elegantly. In fact, it comes right off.

"Whoops", James says for the second time that night, spits the button unceremoniously on the floor and dives in for the next one, entirely undeterred.

*

By the time fourteen and half minutes are up, Niki's shirt is open to the waist and missing two buttons. As it happens, he is unable to cover the state of the shirt under his jacket, because said jacket is very much needed right where it is: draped over his arm and, incidentally, also over his lap. James is sitting right where he properly should, looking far too cheerful for his own good.

Niki exits the cab as if the seat was on fire. He does not know what James says to the driver or how much money changes hands. He just wants to get into his room, James's room, _any_ room.

After all, there is a time and place for everything.


End file.
